


Unknowns

by devovere



Series: Intimacies [4]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: As in topsoil, Episode: s02e25 Resolutions, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Kathryn gets sweaty, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Morning After, No I mean actual dirt, Not from sex though, Science, Sciencing the dirt, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 12:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14260563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devovere/pseuds/devovere
Summary: The morning (well, afternoon) after their wild first night together. A little banter, a little science, a little revelation for Kathryn.





	Unknowns

**Author's Note:**

> Immediately follows “Proving His Point,” the previous story in this series. 
> 
> Heartfelt thanks to beta-readers Klugtiger, who turned my smidge of nonsensical wannabe science into some (mostly) actual biochemistry that fit my plot needs, and Killermanatee, who encouraged me to lighten everyone’s load for just a minute.

When they rose from Kathryn’s bed, near noon, things were less awkward than either might have predicted -- largely because they were both in such obvious and undeniable pain that they could only laugh at themselves and sympathize with one another. 

“How is it that your neck rub has left me barely able to walk?” Kathryn teased through a grimace as she emerged from the bathroom, rubbing her sore hip. 

“My neck rub?” he huffed back in mock offense. “Woman, you almost killed me. I may never stand up straight again.” He was hunched over the counter, preparing their breakfast. 

She picked up the cup of coffee he’d replicated and said over its rim, eyeing a certain portion of his anatomy suggestively, “Well, that would certainly be disappointing.” 

He came to her and bent carefully, grunting a little, to nuzzle an ear. “I was talking about my back, Kathryn.” 

“I’m so glad,” she purred, then changed tone. “But seriously, we got a little crazy last night. I hope you don’t think I require six orgasms a day now.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed his nose, a charmingly innocent gesture that made him laugh after her bawdily frank comment. 

“I’m sure I counted at least seven -- or was it eight?” He snickered, then failed to dodge fast enough as she swatted him playfully. “Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll have a sexual marathon like that in me for at least another two years.” 

At that her smile grew a little misty. “You dear man,” she murmured. “Thank you. Thank you for waiting for me,” and kissed him properly. And just like that, the fear in the back of his mind that she would backpedal, try to deny their new intimacy, evaporated in the bright light of the noontime sun. 

Neither suggested or resorted to using a dermal regenerator to heal the marks of passion they’d left on one another, nor any pain-relieving hypospray from the medkit. They seemed to have arrived without discussion at a mutual agreement to wear upon and within their bodies those reminders of this profound shift in their relationship for as long as they could. 

=====

After their meal, which Kathryn found herself eating with relish -- sex with Chakotay seemed to be an appetite stimulant, something she didn’t remember from previous relationships -- she wanted to get started on her new climate research project. Chakotay agreed to review the limited weather data  _ Voyager _ ’s sensors had been able to provide them before departing, as well as the nutritional requirements to consider in selecting their first crops, while she undertook the soil analysis. 

Even more than how to grow food, they needed to understand the weather extremes they would face here. They’d nearly lost their shelter along with her research equipment to the recent plasma storm. If such storms were a common occurrence, they would have to devise more durable shelter, better able to withstand extremely high winds and flying debris of the sort that had caved in their roof two nights previously. 

She had a hunch that the answer to her question would be found not in the skies, but in the soil. 

Like all M-class planets, this one’s atmosphere was mostly nitrogen. During a thunderstorm, lightning broke down nitrogen molecules into individual atoms, which combined with oxygen to make nitrate ions. These ions fell to the earth in raindrops and, along with minerals in the soil, formed nitrates. Nitrates were vital to plant growth, so she knew the  _ Voyager _ crew had put her and Chakotay in an area with adequate nitrate levels in the soil. 

However, that initial soil analysis would not have distinguished between the two types of nitrates: those that originated from ordinary lightning storms and those from plasma storms. Nitrates found in the soil after a plasma storm would have a significantly higher amount of nitrogen-15, but since this isotope was naturally occurring and didn't affect plant growth, it wouldn't have stood out when Voyager's crew scanned for simple nitrate levels. 

The ship’s sensors hadn’t detected any plasma storm activity in the roughly three weeks  _ Voyager _ had been in orbit; otherwise she and Chakotay would have been provided better shelter in the first place. And there hadn’t been any storms within range of their own sensors during the six weeks they’d been living here. But now that they knew these dangerously destructive storms were possible here, they needed a better estimate of their frequency. She hoped that comparing the percentage of these isotopes in soil samples from different locations would help her arrive at such an estimate. 

Anyway, it was something she could do with a standard tricorder, which was about all she had to work with now. 

This was how Kathryn ended up burrowing underneath their shelter to obtain a sample that, she reasoned, had been protected from direct exposure to whatever had been in the atmosphere during the storm. Between that effort and an initial pass at clearing some ground for planting, she worked the soreness out of her hips and upper body. 

Chakotay emerged from the shelter in mid-afternoon to find her sweaty and covered in dirt almost from head to toe. 

“I’m a mess,” she said, smiling. She pushed the hair that had worked itself loose from her braid back from her face, managing mostly just to smear more dirt from her hands onto her damp forehead and neck. 

“A beautiful mess, though,” he commented affably, handing her a full water flask. She drank deeply and handed it back to him. 

As he capped the flask, he asked, “What did you turn up?” and gestured towards the tricorder. 

“It’s hard to say,” she mused, frowning. “I found both regular and plasma nitrates in all my samples, but no significant difference between their ratios in any of them. I don’t know if that’s because the tricorder isn’t calibrated for sufficiently precise measurements of nitrogen isotopes, if the plasma nitrates are leached from the soil at a different rate than normal nitrates, if there’s something in the environment that works to maintain stable ratios of these nitrates, or if there’s some other factor I’m not even considering yet.”

“Sounds like you have more questions now than you started with,” he answered easily, untroubled. 

“Certainly,” she replied, smiling. “And that’s often my favorite part of scientific research. But,” and her face fell a bit, “Between this puzzle and my failure to find a cure for our virus … I can’t help thinking that I just don’t have enough background in xenology and meteorology to do anything useful here.” 

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I find that hard to believe, Kathryn. Those fields may not be your specialty, but you couldn’t have become a science officer without broad competencies. We’ve been here such a short time, and you’ve been focused on just one very challenging puzzle up until today. Give yourself time to learn this environment.” 

Glancing up at Chakotay’s face, serene in the warm midday sunshine, Kathryn remembered his strength the night of the storm, how he’d carried her equipment case through the gale-force winds and then wrapped her in his body for protection as their world fell apart around them. 

Could she relax into this sense of security? He’d always offered it to her, but as his captain, she’d never had the luxury of trusting it; there had been too many unknowns, too many hostiles, too many anomalies, and she’d been ultimately responsible for the entire ship’s safety -- including his. 

But planet-bound, alone with him … she was no one’s captain now. She’d said as much their first day out of stasis, six weeks ago, but she hadn’t fully believed it. Now, she suddenly realized that all her efforts before the storm, and even today, to rescue and protect them through scientific research, were largely her attempt to hold fast to that role of captain, guardian, leader. 

Maybe their well-being no longer rested primarily on her shoulders. Maybe she could learn to live with a few unknowns, some unexplained anomalies. Maybe she could accept some of that calming strength Chakotay exuded, could lean on him. 

Maybe they could be partners. 

It might take some getting used to, but the idea held a certain appeal. 

And so, when Chakotay -- oblivious to the seismic shift taking place in her mind -- suggested, “How about a swim before dinner to cool off?” she noted the glint in his eye and merely raised an eyebrow of her own in return. 

“That sounds wonderful,” she murmured. She took his hand, her tricorder in the other, and began walking with him. He beamed with pleasure, swinging their clasped hands as they strode down the path that their feet were gradually forming in the virgin landscape. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. I invite and appreciate feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
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>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta) may be a useful resource for some. 
> 
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End file.
